The Outcast (Summoner #4)(34)

Embarrassed, Arcturus lowered his head. The room was barely furnished, with a few dirty plates piled on a rickety desk, alongside a stack of books, parchment and a stub of candle. A large wardrobe was the only other piece of furniture, leaving Elizabeth to sit down on the bed.

“I’m sorry, I was just…”

He stopped. Something held him back from mentioning Crawley. Ulfr was involved somehow, unwillingly or not, as was he. Was he keeping quiet to protect Ulfr … or himself?

“… worried about you,” he muttered lamely, twisting his hands in his lap.

Elizabeth’s face softened at his words, and Arcturus felt a twinge of guilt for lying to her.

“Well, something to keep in mind next time,” she said, giving him a quick smile. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there this morning. Unfortunately, I’ve been ordered to report to the palace, so I won’t be able to come and tutor you in the afternoon. After the weekend you’ll have to rejoin normal lessons, Provost Forsyth’s orders.”

Arcturus’s heart sank, dreading his next encounter with Lady Faversham—he had just got her son expelled after all, and who knows what Charles had told her. He didn’t want to think about it.

“What happened to you?” Arcturus asked, staring at Elizabeth’s blackened uniform.

Elizabeth sighed and brushed ineffectually at the soot on her trousers, but only managed to spread it further.

“There was trouble in Corcillum last night,” Elizabeth replied, rubbing her eyes wearily. “Some of the common folk set fire to the barracks. They’re not happy with how their taxes are being spent. There was some looting, even some fighting. Most of the teachers were called in to manage the situation—lessons have been canceled today since we were up all night fighting the blaze.”

Of course, he should have known—Zacharias had mentioned the riots. Arcturus stood and shook his head apologetically.

“I’m sorry, I must have woken you. I should go,” Arcturus said, standing.

“It’s fine. Here, take this,” Elizabeth said, reaching across to her desk and picking up a slim volume.

“It’s the demonology textbook. All the demons that we know of are in here, along with their stats and abilities. This one’s out-of-date—there’s a new edition each year with updated illustrations and newly discovered demons—but it should give you something to read if I can’t make it this afternoon.”

“Thank you,” Arcturus said, clasping the book gratefully to his chest. “I’ll study it today.”

He slipped out the door, giving her an apologetic wave.

Only to find Crawley waiting for him.

“Ah … there you are,” Crawley said, putting an arm around Arcturus’s shoulders and propelling him down the corridor. “We haven’t been properly introduced.”

The servant ignored a warning growl from Sacharissa, who paced along beside them with her teeth bared. There was a strange scent emanating from the man, masked with what must have been a liberal splash of cheap cologne; Arcturus couldn’t place it.

“Arcturus, right?”

Arcturus nodded mutely, trying to shrug off the iron grip that now encased him.

“I’m Crawley, head steward,” the man continued, turning Arcturus down another passage. “You might say I run the show where the servants are concerned. I want you to know, if you need anything, anything at all, you just let me know.”

“Thank you,” Arcturus said guardedly, finally managing to extricate himself. They had arrived in a small alcove with a bookcase and two armchairs. He could see the balcony farther down the corridor, and the area was lit by a rainbow of light from a stained glass window in the wall.

“This is my favorite place. Please, sit.”

The hand that pushed Arcturus down left him little choice.

Crawley settled opposite him, and gave him a calculating look over steepled fingers. This time, Arcturus was angry. They might both be commoners, but that gave the man no right to manhandle him that way.

“What do you want?” Arcturus said, lacing his voice with a measure of the anger he felt.

Crawley only smiled and continued staring. Even another growl from Sacharissa couldn’t shift his eyes. It was as if he were deciding something.

Finally, after what felt like an age, he spoke.

“Do you like it here, Arcturus?”

Of all the questions, that was what Crawley wanted to ask him?

“I like it well enough. I mean, I almost died, but that’s over with now.”

“Ah, yes. The supposed duel … I think we both know that’s not exactly what happened. They tried to kill you, didn’t they? For being a commoner. Don’t deny it.”

Arcturus blanched at the accusation, and Crawley smiled at his reaction, nodding to himself.

“I thought so.”

Unnerved, Arcturus made to get up, but Crawley raised a warning hand.

“I know you were forced to keep it quiet. I’ll keep it our little secret. I mean, they wouldn’t want the story that some nobles had tried to assassinate the first common summoner getting out to the masses. Not in the current climate.”

Arcturus didn’t like where the conversation was heading.

“Look, whatever you want from me, I don’t want any part of it. Leave me alone and we won’t have any problems.”